


Need You Now

by CharlieTheAstr0naut



Series: D:BH Whumpfics [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android Hank Anderson, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Whump, Crying, Crying Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson & Connor Friendship, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Pain, Protective Hank Anderson, Whump, a chunky cat, hurt Connor, reverse au, shameless whump, sumo is a cat, whumpage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25643932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlieTheAstr0naut/pseuds/CharlieTheAstr0naut
Summary: When Connor is beaten and stabbed, he fears the worst that he’ll never see Hank again.
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor
Series: D:BH Whumpfics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1927261
Comments: 1
Kudos: 142





	Need You Now

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything, so this fic isn’t great. But I really wanted to write some whump with Connor. Hope you like it.

Connor couldn’t wait until he got home to have a smoke. His cravings for a cigarette between his lips had gotten bad enough that when he left the convenient store, he walked right into an alley, eagerly opened the pack of cigarettes before anxiously searching for his lighter. After taking in a breath of smoke, he let it out calmly, letting the high kick in and steady his stress. 

Connor normally wouldn’t be alone when he went on outings, and he could only imagine his father-like android, Hank, giving him shit about smoking. Connor almost wished he were here right now to fill that awkward silence, but he already seemed occupied with finishing up their paperwork.

Just as Connor was about to breathe in another breath of smoke, the cigarette was forcefully taken out of his fingers. The young detective looked up, sneering at the man in front of him who had taken his cigarette, smoking it himself and breathing it out onto Connor. 

“I got a whole pack, asshole,” Connor began, pushing himself off the wall and ready to throw hands, “You could’ve asked.”

Before Connor was about to take another step closer, he paused when he saw that this stranger wasn’t alone. Standing a few feet away from him, was another man, covered from neck to toe in tattoos, which were revealed by his shredded clothes.

“Nice to see you too, detective,” The man in front said.

Connor’s eyes dashed between the two men, and he shoved his hand in his pocket, pulling out another cigarette, “Have we met before?”

“Maybe for a few minutes, but yes… You busted me five years ago for dealing red ice in Detroit.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell…”

Connor, still looking like he couldn’t give a care in the world, had his small box of cigarettes slapped out of his hand by the other man. Adrenaline rushed through his body as he found himself being violently restrained. The man across from him watched him struggle, finally speaking once Connor had given up trying to break free. 

“My name is Alexander Vass,” The man dropped his cigarette on the ground, stomping it into a pile of ash, “You remember me now?”

Connor simply stared at him, struggling against the stronger man, “If I said no?”

Alexander chuckled at the detective’s comment, glancing over at his partner before slugging Connor across the face. His world went numb and blurry for a split second before he regained his focus. 

“I got out of prison a few months ago,” Alexander began, “More like hell, really. My friend and I here were just running some errands when, coincidentally, we find Detroit’s best and youngest detective out here as well.”

“Hm… Did I arrest this asshole too?” Connor scoffed, only to have his grip tightened. 

“You haven’t changed either—Still the same, lawful brat… But something looks different…”

Connor scoffed, getting impatient with the former criminal’s monologue, “So, what now…? Is this payback because I was doing my job?”

That earned another punch to the face, harder this time. Connor was forced onto his knees. “You know,” Alexander began, “I was doing my job too. Drug money was my living.” 

“Then you should also know it’s illegal, too—”

Connor received a kick to his ribs, and Alexander raised his voice, “I wasn’t hurting anyone! It was their choice to buy from me, and I just supplied! I never stole anything! I’ve never killed anyone! This was my way of getting by all because someone thought an android was better at my old job!”

Connor coughed, “Point still stands… Drugs are illegal… So is assault-”

“Not another fucking word out of you!”

Alexander kicked Connor once more, grabbing the collar of his shirt and hissing, “And because of you, I lost everything! So now, you’re gonna let me get my hits in, and you’re gonna fucking take it.”

He threw Connor onto the ground, kicking him repeatedly in the abdominal area over and over again. Soon, Connor could feel them come from the other man too, and all he could do was cover his head and wait until it was over. A combination of numbness and pain flooded his body, and he could taste blood at the back of his throat. 

Soon, he didn’t need to be restrained, as he was in too much pain to move. He placed both his palms on the cold ground, attempting to stand up, but Alexander pressed his foot against his face, pinning him down once more. 

“Oh… I see what’s different now…” Alexander chuckled, “You’re weaker…” He stepped off, and Connor only managed to roll onto his side. 

“I could’ve sworn there was more fat in your face last time I saw you,” Alexander continued, “But you just look like death now, detective.”

Connor heard the flick of a switch blade coming from Alexander. 

“How’d you like to meet it face to face; Put an end to this misery you’re in?”

Connor tried to scoot back, but let out a strangled noise when he felt a sharp pain in his rib area. The thought of death seemed like a pleasant idea to Connor ever since Nines died. Each day, he felt as if he was fighting and struggling for nothing. But now, Connor feared death. He wasn’t ready to meet it, as Alexander said. 

Now he had something to keep living for. He had Hank, who had been his one and only father figure and best friend. He had his chunky cat, Sumo, who had guided him out of dark places and comforted him in bad days. 

No… Connor wasn’t ready for death. He wanted to live. 

“Alex… lets just stop here!” The other man found that he wasn’t mute after all.

“I’m not finished yet.”

“You just got out of prison! If you kill this motherfucker, that’s a one way ticket back!”

“Then I’ll be quick!”

“No! No way!”

“Stop being such a pussy!”

As the two criminals argued, Connor attempted to regain his strength to move. But the least he could do was crawl. He slowly and shakily dragged himself in Alexander’s direction, hoping he could just sliver right past him. However, all it took was one move to earn a direct and harsher kick to the ribs, and Connor could’ve sworn he heard a soft, wet “pop”. 

Upon rolling over onto his back, the first thing Connor saw was Alexander throwing his knife straight down into his side, fists clenched white and mixed with splattered blood. Connor gasped breathlessly. He processed the stab as a sharp sensation, and then into an intense, searing and throbbing pain. 

“That’s enough!” 

“What the fuck are you doing?! If we leave him alive, he’ll just come back for us!” 

Connor’s vision became blurred with tears, and it took everything not to scream out in agony, but it didn’t stop him from letting out clenched whimpers and gasps for breath. 

Before the argument could escalate any further, a shout from the entrance of the alleyway halted the two men. “DPD! Hands up!”

Alexander tipped the knife out of Connor, who in turn cried out, clutching his side as he tried to look for this new voice. He saw Alexander, frozen like a deer in the headlights. He clutched the now bloodied switchblade, which was missing part of the top. The other man seemed compliant, putting his hands to his head immediately. 

“Fuck…” Alexander cursed, “Fuck!”

He turned around and ran, kicking Connor as he hopped over him. The young detective was laying on his back once more, staring up at the cloudy sky that threatened to pour cold rain. His hands clutched at his wound, not wanting to stop the bleeding, but to stop the pain. Then he felt another pair grasp at him, and an officer come into his view. 

“Shit… Detective Stern?!”

Connor tried to reply, but all that came out was a strangled and throaty grunt. 

“136, send medical for male, mid 30s,” The officer spoke into her radio, “Conscious. Breathing. Bleeding heavily from abdomen.”

As soon as she stopped to turn her attention back to Connor, she attempted to move his hands away. Connor resisted, biting back his painful cries, but letting his tears flow freely. 

“Detective, move your hands, please,” She demanded, “I’m trying to help you.”

Connor continued to resist, but didn’t have the strength for long as his hands were pushed away, and the officer applied pressure to the wound. 

“Talk to me, okay?” She said, “What happened?”

“Hh… Ha…” Connor choked out, feeling blood dry out the back of his throat. 

“What?”

“H-... Ha… Hank…”

“Who’s Hank?”

“Get him…! G-Get him here…!”

“Is he someone you know?”

“My partner… H-He’s my friend…”

“Okay. You’ll see him soon.”

For the next five minutes, the officer continued to talk to Connor, trying to keep him awake until medical arrived. By then, Connor was feeling drowsy from the loss of blood, which formed a puddle beneath him. Medical personnel lifted him out of it, and when he was placed in the back of their ambulance, his reddened shirt was stripped off, exposing cold air to his skin. Four paramedics surrounded him, one of them examining the wound, and the others holding Connor back from moving around too much. 

“What’s your name, sir?” One of them asked. 

“C-Connor Stern-” He yelped as the paramedic poured water onto his wound, trying to get a better look. 

“Hold still, please. How old are you?”

Before Connor could answer, the man looking at the stab wound said aloud, “There’s something in there—A blade perhaps.”

Connor whimpered as the pair of hands continued to poke and prod at it. All he wanted right now was Hank. No. Not “wanted”. _Needed_ , and in this moment he needed him more than ever. But how long would it be until he finally saw him? Would it be too late? Would he already be dead? Questions like these made Connor’s eyes sting with tears, and his crying made his breathing unsteady. 

“Deep breaths, Mr. Stern,” The paramedic on his left spoke to him, “Try to take deep breaths, okay?”

“I… I don’t want to die…” Connor wept. 

“You’re going to be okay. We’re almost to the hospital, and from there, we’ll patch you right back up.”

Soon enough, the ambulance came to a halt, and the paramedics made way towards the emergency room, pushing Connor as fast as they could. Then they left Connor in the trauma room, letting the doctors and nurses take control from there. The young detective’s condition was still stable, but along with the boiling panic and burning pain, he was far from okay. 

His doctor was in the process of cleaning and preparing his wound when the doors pushed open. A nurse came in, followed by none other than Hank, whose LED spun a violent red at the sight of Connor, who reached out for him. 

“Connor…” Hank rushed to him, grabbing hold of his hand.

Connor had so much to say to him, but all that came out were gasps for air and weak sobs. 

“I’m here, son, I’m here…” 

The grip Hank had around Connor’s hand was protective, as if he was never going to let go. 

“You’re Mr. Stern’s android?” The doctor questioned. 

“Partner…!” Connor corrected. 

“What the hell happened?” Hank asked.

“From what we’ve been told, he was beaten and stabbed. Remnants of the weapon used are still inside the wound, but it fortunately also prevented further blood loss. We’re going to move onto surgery here shortly to remove those remnants, and stitch up the wound.”

Hank nodded, about to let go of Connor’s hand until his grip tightened once more. 

“Don’t go…” Connor choked. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” 

“I’m sorry,” The doctor placed a hand on Connor’s shoulder, “But he can’t be present for the surgery.”

“No… No, I want him to stay. Please…”

Connor’s grip on Hank’s hand was firm, even as the nurses began to roll him away. Hank held on for as long as he could, whispering words of encouragement and safety to the detective. Then, when Connor’s grasp finally slipped, his hand stayed stretched out, attempting to call out to Hank. 

“You‘ll see him again soon,” The nurse said to him, “Don’t worry.”

But what if he didn’t?

That question sent Connor into another spiral of panic. He needed Hank by his side. He needed to see him one last time in case he didn’t make it. But his mumbles and begs to see the android were ignored, and shortly began to die down when he felt a large needle in his vein. Finally, after being told prior to stay awake, he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The soft sound of a heart rate monitor and the cool temperature drove Connor back into consciousness as his eyes fluttered open. His muscles felt stiff and sore as he tried to adjust his posture. His throat was dry and his stomach growled aggressively with hunger. As he blinked the fatigue from his eyes, he finally saw Hank sitting beside his bed With his eyes closed, his LED blinking a soft blue.

“H... Hank...?” Connor croaked out, which, despite sound so silent, caught the HK800’s attention. 

“Detective...” He spoke, “You’re awake...”

Connor lifted his arm, reaching out. Hank took hold, using his other hand to rub the detective’s knuckles, “How do you feel?”

“Hurts...” Connor murmured. 

“They told me that they have one man in custody, but another got away.”

”What...?”

”The men that did this to you.”

Suddenly, he heard a shaky sigh coming from Hank, and he glanced over. To his surprise, the android was crying. Angry tears dripped onto the sheets. 

“I should’ve been there...” Hank said through gritted teeth, “If you weren’t alone, you couldn’t have gotten hurt. I should’ve...!”

The rest of his words were cut off by a hissed cry. Connor moved closer, removing his hand from Hank’s grasp and wrapping his arms around him. Hank did the same, avoiding the stab wound. 

“We both know I’m not your responsibility,” Connor said, “It’s not your fault I landed here.”

Hank said nothing, but only pulled Connor closer, tightly and protectively. 

“I lived...” Connor was close to choking on his own emotions now, “But I was so scared I wasn’t going to see you again.”

”Me too...” Hank sniffed. 

The two sat in silence for a while, soaking up each other’s comfort until. 

“I’m just glad you’re here now...” Connor finally said.

”I’m not going to leave you, Connor,” Hank said, “I’m _never_ going to leave you...”


End file.
